


Spidey Sense

by windandthestars



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Backstory Swap, Gen, Pre-Series, Prompt Bracket Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 21:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14601840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windandthestars/pseuds/windandthestars
Summary: “You did try and warn me.”“Maybe you should’ve listened.”“No.” He sets his beer aside and slides to his feet. “You’re right about the Britney Spears chyrons. Neither of us would’ve lasted. Now let’s get the hell out of here before Coop changes his mind.”---Mac and Jim share a drink on their way to Iraq.





	Spidey Sense

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my [prompt bracket](http://daylightbegins.tumblr.com/tagged/fic%3A-brackets) collection of fics. I've started a longer (Mac & Will) backstory swap, season one rewrite, but since there are dozens of possibilities, I though I'd start with something shorter that better fit this particular prompt combination (backstory swap and pre-series fic). The backstory swap isn't particularly evident here, but I like how it turned out so I'm counting it anyway :)
> 
> Warnings for drinking, mention of (minor oc) character death, and the usual language.

She knows she should be out sitting with Jim, waiting for an update on the final leg of their trip, their transportation into Baghdad proper, but she prefers it here. It feels foreign in a familiar sort of way— country girl in the big city, white American overseas, woman with a bunch of military men— and there was the beer, decent beer, much better than she’d been expecting, so she’d cut her walk short and decided to stay here. Jim would know where to find her.

“Hey.” She smiles into her beer.

“How the hell do you do that?” He’s still standing behind her so he can’t see her smile, but he knows she must be because she always laughs at how surprised he sounds like he’d expected her to have lost her ability to read the room, the subtle shifts in mood, in the air, the feel of his bulk behind her, the way he shifted his weight when he walked. “Don’t tell me your spidey sense was tingling.”

“Why would I,” she cuts herself off and shakes her head, turning enough so she can see him out of the corner of her eye regarding her. “If I’m spiderman, what does that make you, batman?”

“With a cape and tights? That sounds more like your future getup.” He smiles at that and she nods at the seat beside her, relieved to see he isn’t mad she’d wandered off. She’d been concerned he’d want to keep her close, either for her own safety or his, but he seemed content to let her mind herself and she appreciated that.

“What number’s that?” He asks gesturing at her beer as he catches the eye of the guy behind the counter, ordering his own.

“Two and a half.”

“We have a couple of hours. Finish that, then we have to go back over the paperwork.”

Sober up he means. She doesn’t begrudge him that. He’d seen her weather far worse drinking binges, but they were, technically, on the clock and headed into a city that was now dry, save whatever alcohol they brought in themselves. Showing up looking overindulgent wasn’t going to do them any favors.

“Coop has a couple of leads he wants us to follow up.”

She hums, taking a swig of her beer then glances at him. “I ever tell you I had a dog named Coop?”

“No.” Jim pops the top off his bottle. “He have a story?”

“He lived. He died.” She shrugs. “How much detail do you want?”

“You used to take him hunting?” It sounds like guess, but it still surprises her that he seems to know to bring that up.

“I told you about that?”

“You were piss drunk. You kept threatening to make me sing something, lest you do the honors. I asked you to tell me a story instead.”

“I’m impressed.” She gulps down more beer to hide her smile.

“That I’m here after that?” He shakes his head, amused. “You’re a very civil drunk. And there’s always the spidey sense.”

“Mmm right.” She lets him see her smile this time and he grins back.

“Mama always told me if you’re going to go off on a half-cocked adventure, go with someone with spidey sense, it’ll save your ass.”

“You forgot the underfunded slightly suicidal part.”

“Coop wouldn’t have—”

“Rule number—”

“One trust your own judgement. I know. Checks and balances blah blah second to blahty blah.”

“I volunteered two weeks after we had an unexpected vacancy. The fact that I was willing to cover the Green Zone was icing on the cake. He couldn’t have said no.”

She knows “unexpected vacancy” is horribly crass at the best of times, but she hadn’t come for a beer to sit and mourn the loss of a couple of her colleagues, not with her own mortality so close at hand. She’d been wanting the assignment for months, if she’d seized the best opportunity she’d had, she doubted Jim or Coop would blame her for that.

“You know he’d rather send us somewhere else.”

“As a human being,” she drains the last of her beer, “yeah, but not as a reporter. There’s so much that’s not getting covered.”

“Because it’s dangerous.”

“Having second thoughts?”

Jim shakes his head, watching her set down her empty bottle. “Reminding you. What would you have done if he’d said no?”

“Joined Human Rights Watch.” It’s not something she’d actually thought about, but it doesn’t feel like an impossibility. It certainly feels more probable than her lasting another six months writing segments on the latest celebrity crisis and whatever Laura Bush had had for lunch.

“That feels like a bit too much advocacy for your taste.”

“It’s the same boots on the ground job we’re doing now, same collection of information. Press conferences aren’t live broadcasts but it’s better than writing Britney Spears chyrons.”

“That’s a high bar.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugs. “Finish your beer.”

He hated when she did that, rushed him through his beer, but it’d been almost six months since she’d showed up, and if he still hadn’t learned to talk less and drink more that wasn’t her fault.

“Can I buy you a bag of chips or something?”

“I packed chips. You’d be better off paying me to keep my butt on— where did you leave our bags? Please tell me you didn’t—”

“They’re in the, whatever it’s called, the not press office. The woman at the desk thinks I’m cute. I asked her to do me a favor.”

“Ah.” Mac watches him drink his beer in long slow gulps.

“What’s the alternative, that she’s scared of you?” He asks when he finishes, looking skeptical, but almost, she notices, like he’s considering the possibility. “You’re not that stern.”

“We can go ask her.”

She’s teasing, but for a moment he misses that, looks mortified and then she cracks, starts laughing, and he chuckles reluctantly. 

“That sixth sense of yours is going to save my ass but that sense of humor’s going to get your neck wrung.”

“By you.”

“Probably.” He admits with a more honest laugh. “You did try and warn me.”

“Maybe you should’ve listened.”

“No.” He sets his beer aside and slides to his feet. “You’re right about the Britney Spears chyrons. Neither of us would’ve lasted. Now let’s get the hell out of here before Coop changes his mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> This now has a follow up '[Stay a Little Later](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15698535/chapters/36483084)'


End file.
